


Guardian Angel

by Tasharii



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Reader-Insert, Wing Kink, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 09:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15838626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasharii/pseuds/Tasharii
Summary: Bucky’s wanted to touch your wings from the moment you met. It wasn’t until recently, after dating for a while, that you were finally ready to let him. The moment turned out to be more intimate than you ever imagined.





	Guardian Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Another random scenario that popped into my head. I had a lot of fun figuring out how to write a character with wings. I don’t have a beta reader, and I’m slowly edging my way into smut. This barely counts as smut....  
> So, I’m sorry for any weird mistakes.  
> You can also read this on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/tasharii)  
> Let me know what you think!

No one touched your wings. Ever. It was too dangerous. Too intimate. Too vulnerable. Not a single person had come close to your wings since you were little, and your mom taught you how to preen them properly.

Sunlight warmed your back as you sat across from Bucky on the bed. He was staring at you seriously, and his thumb brushed the back of your hand, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Your wings fluttered nervously against your back, but he couldn’t see them. The glamour you used, easy as breathing at this point, kept your wings invisible. It smoothed out your back and hid them from everyone.

When you were still small, your mother taught you how to hide them. Just like her. Back then, you were home-schooled, and just the two of you lived deep in the mountains. The nearest neighbor was a mile out. Perfect for a fledgling toddler. Perfect for flying lessons. Just perfect.

She always warned you to never let anyone near your wings.   
You internalized that after the awful things that happened to her.

Which was making this moment especially difficult.

“I shouldn’t be so weird about it anyway. It’s you. And I trust you. Really trust you.” The reassurances left you, and you weren’t sure if they were for him or yourself. Shakily, you let out a slow breath, staring down at his hand on yours and squeezed. He squeezed back. The window was cracked, letting in sweet summer air. Probably due to the breeze, a part of you ached to just fly. Fly away from this situation and deal with it later.

“I just don’t want you to push yourself into anything you don’t want to do Angel.” Bucky ran his metal fingers across your cheek, tilting your face up so you would look at him. He gave you a playfully wink, thumb brushing the corner of your lips as you smiled. The jerk never forgot how being called ‘Angel’ always made you soft and warm inside. Amused, you shook your head at the pet name. It wasn’t even a unique pet name specifically given to you by him.

Phil Coulson, your adoptive father, after your mother was murdered, called you his little angel. You were still small when he rescued you from foster care. But feisty with fire. Tiny, still developing wings sporadically broke from the glamour despite your best efforts. It was a hard skill to control. He eventually helped you master it.

It quickly became your pseudo superhero name among the Avengers. Had to distinguish you from Falcon somehow. As if that were really an issue. Most of the time, you didn’t feel like you lived up to it. Being an angel was a huge pedestal to stand on if you thought about it. All you had in common with an angel were your wings, and they weren’t even pure white.

Deliberately you rolled your shoulders, and slowly released the glamour. The air around you shifted and it appeared your wings were pulled from thin air behind you. Materializing in a slow gradient. They fanned out, and you stretched them as far as you could in the span of your intentionally spacious bedroom. The tip of each wing almost brushed the walls on either side of you.

Despite them seeming to emerge out of nowhere, they didn’t feel any different. The glamour didn’t make them go away. Even with them invisible, they were a constant weight on your back. You still had to sit differently than everyone else. Still had to tuck them tight to fit into small places. Sometimes, you would even surprise people in sparring by using your wings to dodge. Sam hated that. Said it was cheating that he couldn’t see you preparing to glide or sweep him back with a shove of your wing.

Bucky’s bright blues were wide as he watched the feathers shiver around each other. You brought them forward, the muscles of your back working to fan them over your shoulders, cupping around your sweetheart in a feathery dome. He didn’t try to reach for them yet. His gaze just tracked the movements in awe. Even though he had seen them before, it was like he was seeing them for the first time. 

Hell, if you googled yourself, there were pictures of you and your wings all over the internet.  
All at various ages.  
That was how Coulson found you all those years ago.

After your mother died, the story went global. You were too emotionally distraught at 12 to control your glamour, so everyone quickly became aware of who you were. And, more importantly, what you were. 

You didn’t have any family, so you bounced around in foster care for a while. Some people tried to exploit you. Others, ashamed and afraid, tried to hide you away. Until, miraculously, Phil Coulson found you. He gave you a permanent home and raised you. Helped you develop your abilities.

That way, no one could take advantage of you again.

“They’re amazing.” Bucky breathed, his hand squeezing yours before letting go. He replaced it with his metal one, running his thumb comfortingly over your thigh. You were sitting across from each other, knees brushing. Cause of your wings, you were wearing one of your special, backless tank tops and leggings. Bucky had just gotten home for the day, and his hair was still damp from a shower. He had quickly thrown on a black wifebeater and loose pajama pants. Eager to see your wings ever since you mentioned it to him earlier that morning. 

Sweetly, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your forehead “You’re amazing.” He added, as if he had to be clear. You smiled and flashed your eyes to a bright scarlet with no pupils.

“Amazingly evil.” You joked, making him snort a laugh. Then you blinked them back to your normal color. Mission: Make Bucky Laugh, complete.

“Trying to tell me I’m dating the devil?” Bucky arched an eyebrow, and used his fingers to give himself horns “Cause you’ve got my soul. Just give me some horns and I’ll be your demon.” You snickered, the tension slowly flowing from your muscles.

Over time, you realized you could use the glamour over any part of your body. Change most of your features. Could even create short illusions. The abilities didn’t stop there, though. You could fly faster than you ever thought possible, your outer contour feathers were like a natural armor, and you had an enhanced level of agility.

“I’ll get right on that. Maybe Tony can work you up something to match your arm.” You continued, tapping at the side of the plates, near his shoulder “Maybe even get you a metal tail whip.” A bright, playful smile lit up you face, making your cheeks hurt with the effort.

Buck shook his head, grinning like an idiot too “Oh ya, the public would love that image.” He cleared his throat, and took on a deep, ridiculous voice. His hands gestured up, as if blocking out a headline “Public in uproar. Avenger’s Angel comes out as Lucifer. The Winter Solider finally embraces his demonic nature.” He rolled his eyes “Even if you said you were the devil, they would still blame me for corrupting you.”

Pouting, you nodded “Their idiots. So, ya. Probably. Though I’m definitely the bad influence here.” You snickered and poked his nose. He swatted at your hand, “I’m the one who seduced you. Relationships are never good for superheros. Some Avenger you are. Supposed to have relationship issues. It’s a requirement.” You finished matter-of-factly, staring at him as if you were disappointed.

He blew out a breath “I still have relationship issues. There sitting right in front of me.” He smirked wickedly at you but squawked indignantly when you thumped him over the head with your wing.

Phil was the first father you ever knew, and the greatest influence on your life. He was your bridge into the Avengers. First you started out with Shield and proved yourself to Nick Fury. Then you were brought on for the Avengers very first battle. Stayed ever since. When your father died, the Avengers became your family.

“Are you just gonna beat me up with them or can I touch ‘em now?” Bucky groused, glaring at you, but it fell short. His lips were still tugging up at the edges.

You sat up straighter, suddenly reminded that you were anxious earlier for a reason. The bit of nervousness still left made your feathers ruffle. That was one of the reasons you typically kept them hidden. It embarrassed you that your emotions were so easily read with your wings. 

The left wing splayed closer to him, your primaries stretching up, inviting. Then you nodded for him to go ahead. You held yourself as still as possible when he brought his hand up. Even caught your breath. He stroked his fingers lightly through your primaries. The touch sent shocks down your back, and you gasped softly. He glanced over at you, freezing, but you shook your head “Just sensitive.” Sweetly, he squeezed your thigh with his free hand. Your fingers traced the metal plates over his knuckles.

Bucky nodded, and continued his exploration. He pinched a primary in his fingertips and felt it from the top to the bottom “They’re coarser than I thought.” He mused.

Snorting a little laugh, the tip of your wing flicked him in the face “How else would they be so resistant to bullets dork?” Not entirely bullet proof, but with Tony’s light armor over them, they could take a lot of damage.

Bucky swatted your feathers from his cheek and glared playfully at you. Then, his hand inched deeper, to the downy feathers, and smiled “This is what I imagined they’d feel like. Soft.” He leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek against the inside of your wing. If you hadn’t been dating for so long, you might have shoved him off. But you held still, spine straight, and blushing down to your toes.

He was really, too cute.

You were starting to tremble uncontrollably, and your breath caught in your throat. His touch sparked across your skin. It never occurred to you how sensitive you would be. Even though it wasn’t an unwelcomed sensation, it was just on the edge of too much. Bucky pulled back, and then lightly pushed at your knee. With his guidance, you parted your legs and climbed into his lap, so he could better hold you. “You’re so light.” He stated softly, head back to watch your expressions. Your wings fanned out over your head, just shy of the ceiling, blocking out the overhead light and casting a shadow over him.

Sheepishly, you grinned “Hollow bones.”

Bucky ran a hand down your arm and held your wrist gently in his artificial hand. It was cool on your skin, and hard against your bones. If he wanted, he could easily snap your arm, but you knew he would break his own body before hurting you. Never averting his eyes from yours, he kissed the inside of your wrist “You’re stronger than you look. Who knew?” He teased.

“You do.” You lashed playfully back, making him roll his eyes. It had taken a lot of training. A lot of studying and practice. But you could beat him now sometimes. In an all-out fight. No holding back. No restrictions. You were even. Of course, flight helped.

Still entirely too curious, Bucky released your arm and placed his hands against your sides, squeezing. This all felt so intimate. So sweet. Like always, he made you feel safe. His hands traced up your ribs and around your back. Your shirt went with him, and he stared at your bare stomach, his smile fading.

The stare that met yours was slowly edging towards desire. It sent a thrill through your chest. Then his palms paused between your shoulders before going under. He leaned closer to you and pressed up until he felt the place where the joints connected with your shoulders. A light groan caught in your throat. Embarrassed, you covered your mouth with one hand and squeezed his shoulder with the other. Your eyes snapped shut at his burning touch.

It was like pulsing fire shot straight to your core.

Bucky stilled, but then gently felt his way through your downy feathers again. Each hand traced a path across your feathers at your sides until he stroked past the tips of your primaries. Your wings started to droop down, hugging him closer. Forehead resting against his, you shivered involuntarily when he stopped. The tremor went all the way through your body and audibly ruffled your wings.

Amused, Bucky cooed, voice tinging on rough “If I knew this would make you feel so good, I woulda tried sooner.” Giving your wings a break, he threaded his fingers through your hair, brushing it back from your flushed face. You hesitantly lifted back up, readjusting yourself on his lap so that your weight was mostly on your knees.

The clock beside your bed ticked slowly away. Listening to it, you shakily laughed, almost breathless. You started to count the second-hand’s clicks in attempt to calm down the quivering. “If I knew, I probably would have let you.” You admitted and shook your head at the overly confident grin that spread over his face.

This didn’t feel like when your mother preened your wings for you, or when you cared for them yourself. Bucky’s touch made you hot all over in a way you were becoming all too familiar with. Thanks to him. It wasn’t like this was the only time you had done anything. But it was the first time your wings were involved. You hadn’t expected it to become sexual.

Lust had his pupils blown a little, and his cheeks were warm.  
You didn’t look much better.

Silence fell heavy and full of want. The open expression of need across his features had you hunching your shoulders and tilting your head down. Mirroring you, he sat up. Your hands caught his cheeks and brushed against the stubble you found there. His lips seized yours in a sweet battle of wills. You surged down as he pressed up, trying to release the consuming emotions swelling up inside you both.

When he kissed you like this, there was no doubt in your mind that this man loved you.

Mischievously, his hands traced over the top of your wings. Every time you shivered, and whimpered, he kissed you harder. Obviously enjoying your reactions far too much. Then he parted your lips with his tongue and you thought your heart was going to burst.

Quickly your kisses became messy, and you paused every little bit to groan from his touch. He was smiling against your mouth. Only smiled wider, when you missed at an attempt to pull him back in. It was infuriatingly frustrating. Bucky should never have the ability to render you motionless. He used it for evil. Pleasurable evil.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed yourself flush to him. The vibration of his moan against your lips made you pull back just a hair. Your breath was already ragged, and your wings wrapped protectively around your torso, flight feathers stroking against his spine. You could feel his need thick, against you and his hands ran down your back to hold your hips. It made you swallow nervously, mouth suddenly very dry.

“You alright?” Bucky whispered, hoarse, and you ground your center down against him, unable to help it. His breath hitched, and he naturally brought his hips back up to meet your own. The fresh smell of his body wash filled your breath, and your lips brushed his softly before pulling back again.

“Y-Ya.” You gasped out, trying to focus past the heat “Is this ok?” You questioned in return, feathers rubbing his back, and brushing a hand through his wrecked dark hair. It was still damp and sent cool drops across your fingers. Your nails scrapped against his scalp and tugged the way he liked. He kept his half-lidded eyes locked with yours, and slowly kissed the center of your chest. Deliberately careful, wet kisses trailed up to your collarbone, and made you roll yourself down against him, again.

“Better than ok.” Bucky groaned, tightening his fingers against your skin. He guided you into a rhythm with him. Grinding against each other. Teasing like you were impatient teenagers all over again. You couldn’t handle anymore teasing. “Your beautiful like this.” He took in a quick breath, trying to finish his thought “Sweetest angel I know.” The compliment came out in a heady sigh. Bucky caught a handful of your hair and gently guided your head down. Sweetly, he kissed you again, biting your lower lip, and pulled back just to kiss your cheek. Then your jaw “Promise to watch over me forever?” His mouth brushed your throat. Voice a deep whisper.

You nuzzled his wet hair as he lightly bit at your shoulder. The cool dampness felt amazing against your burning skin. When he treated you like this and spoke to you like that, you could almost believe you were his angel. Created just to be his. And he was your soldier. Here for you to cherish and guard. If he let you, you would be the Winter Soldier’s guardian angel for the rest of your life.

“I promise.” You whispered back.


End file.
